


kiss & (don't) tell

by bloominsummer



Category: K-pop, SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: (again), Alternate Universe - College/University, Getting Together, M/M, Mutual Pining, Social Media, narration dump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-25
Updated: 2020-05-29
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:14:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23835961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bloominsummer/pseuds/bloominsummer
Summary: in which Mingyu breaks a solemn vow, Soonyoung keeps getting involved with his ex, and Jeonghan pushes Seungcheol back into the closet— both figuratively and literally.
Relationships: Jeon Wonwoo/Kim Mingyu, Kwon Soonyoung | Hoshi/Lee Jihoon | Woozi
Comments: 11
Kudos: 246





	1. do i wanna know? (if these feelings flow both ways)

**Author's Note:**

> hi! as the tags describe, this is simply a page for me to post lengthy narrations/NSFW scenes for my [social media au](https://twitter.com/bioominsummer/status/1245183087161430017?s=20) of the same name. if you came here looking for an actual ao3 work, i'm sorry!
> 
> if you're just here for the sexy times, be my guest :):):) for a bit of context if necessary: chapter 1 is exes soonyoung&jihoon not quite being able to admit they haven't learned how to quit each other (and they shouldn't!) + some jealousy ;)

“Oh, you’re he—“

The last syllable of Jihoon’s sentence is muffled against Soonyoung’s lips, quickly stolen by the prodding of the blond’s tongue over the slight parting of his mouth. Soonyoung wants _in_. He has to know first, has to check something for himself—and this curiosity is not something that can wait to be satisfied.

Jihoon staggers backwards, pulling Soonyoung in through the door with him, steady hands on either side of Soonyoung's hips. They’re squeezing tightly as though Jihoon is afraid that Soonyoung might vanish into thin air the moment he lets go of him. Soonyoung presses forward further, spurred by the wordless welcome and the way Jihoon’s mouth instinctively opens up for him.

He licks his way inside, as messy and filthy as he can manage the act to be. Soonyoung traces the upper row of Jihoon’s teeth before he lets his tongue caress the roof of the younger’s mouth. In response to that Jihoon moans, a low sound emerging from the back of his throat. Soonyoung swallows around the reverberation and backs Jihoon up to the nearest wall while keeping their mouths moulded together.

 _Thank God,_ Soonyoung thinks through the thick haze of arousal mixed with relief. _You still taste like you and not anyone else_.

He doesn’t have to ask it explicitly, he knows that the however Jihoon had spent time with Chanyeol it was nothing more than a platonic outing. Soonyoung might have been replaceable in the field, but at least in this matter, he’s still carved out in Jihoon’s heart and that counts as a win. It counts a thousand wins all at once.

A warm hand slides over his nape, calloused fingers first applying pressure there before they thread through the short hairs at the base of his skull. Soonyoung melts into the contact and almost forgets the reason why he’s doing this in the first place. He pulls away from Jihoon, though not entirely. It’s not possible to do so anyway, not with Jihoon practically holding him in place with his iron grip. One remains right above his hipbone, the other holds him by the neck. Soonyoung’s own hands are still placed on Jihoon’s slim waist, the plastic bag filled with food clutched in his right one.

Soonyoung mouths at his jaw, allowing Jihoon time to regain normal oxygen levels in his lungs. Ever so accommodating, Jihoon leans his head back against the wall and gives him access to more.

“You know…” His voice is as wrecked as though he’s suffering from a severe case of cold. Soonyoung feels himself hardening inside his pants just at the knowledge that it’s the kind of effect he still has on Jihoon. “When I invited you over, I really did mean for us to eat.”

“And I brought food.” Soonyoung nibbles lightly at his ear, feeling the lines Jihoon's body going rigid as he tries to suppress a shiver. “More than one kind, how very generous of me.”

Jihoon yanks him away by the neck so Soonyoung has no other choice but to look him in the eyes.

“We don’t have to,” Jihoon tells him, his tone decisive. “It doesn’t have to be every single time—“

“I want to.”

He waits for the words to register in Jihoon’s mind. When it does, Jihoon’s eyes regain their sharp quality once more as he tries to gauge Soonyoung’s masked intention, to check if there's any. From all the times they’ve fallen back in bed together after their relationship crashed and burn, it has always been Jihoon who initiates. Through an invitation, a taunting, or even a provocative picture, but Jihoon takes the first step every time.

Partially, Soonyoung supposes it’s because he's too afraid of what might happen if he dips his feet into the otherwise calm waters.

It must be the fact that Jihoon still tastes like that Jeju orange candy he loves to pop into his mouth so much and nothing else but that— it gets Soonyoung brave. Gets him reckless, too, maybe. That sounds like something Wonwoo would say if he were here to offer his opinion on things. But Wonwoo’s halfway across town doing God knows what, and Soonyoung is here standing between Jihoon’s legs, their bodies aligned perfectly like this is the place he was meant to be right from the start.

Soonyoung leans forward and brushes their noses together, practically feels the tension melts away from Jihoon’s body like ice cream in the middle of a hot day in summer.

Sighing, Jihoon’s hand slides down from his neck to the small of his back.

“You’re not even going to let me eat first, are you?”

It’s funny because Soonyoung would have, except Jihoon doesn’t bother to wait for his answer before he’s tugging Soonyoung to the direction of the bed. His insistent mouth chases the taste of Soonyoung’s happiness on his tongue and Soonyoung doesn’t need to think twice before he kisses him back.

He struggles to separate from Jihoon to save the plastic bag in his hand and its content, placing it above the small table near the kitchen area. After Soonyoung's managed to secure their meal for later, he takes off his shoes. The right one, then the left, almost methodical in carrying out his action.

Jihoon’s already sitting against the headboard when Soonyoung turns around. His shirt has been discarded to the floor, near by the foot of the bed. With a crook of his index finger, Jihoon beckons him closer.

The way Soonyoung moves to heed his call... he gravitates toward Jihoon, there's simply no other word for it. Not a single cell of his body fights the force of attraction. They’re not capable of such resistance and Soonyoung’s not a big enough fool to even try.

“What do you want?” asks Jihoon once he’s got his lap full of Soonyoung. His eyes are fixed on Soonyoung’s mouth and he takes this into his advantage as he wets his lips purposefully.

Jihoon swallows thickly at the sight.

Giddy upon receiving the response he desires, Soonyoung swiftly pulls his sweater over his head, then his shirt follows the same fate. He throws both of them over his shoulder, doesn’t care where it lands because Jihoon’s hand is trailing a path from his sternum down to his happy trail.

The pool of heat in his stomach begins to boil.

“I want you to watch me,” he answers, hooking a finger beneath Jihoon’s jaw to guide his gaze up.

Though his eyes are already glazed over, Jihoon manages to give him a weak nod.

Soonyoung works his fingers to untie the drawstring of Jihoon’s sweatpants, not at all surprised when he finds him naked beneath the fabric. Jihoon values comfort more than anything else and that means going commando in the comfort of his own place.

Don’t get him wrong, Soonyoung is not complaining, he's far from it. That’s just one less thing for him to take care of before he slips into the main act and he’s all the more glad for that. He pulls the pants past the head of Jihoon’s cock, half-mast and slightly leaking, shoves it down to his mid-thighs after a brief moment of admiration.

“Don’t touch me unless I tell you to,” Soonyoung tells him when he sees Jihoon fisting the sheets, desperate to touch something other than himself. “You can touch yourself if you want, but if you hold out I’ll give you a reward.”

After Jihoon gives him yet another silent nod to show his understanding, Soonyoung crawls over him to retrieve the supplies he knows Jihoon keeps inside his drawer. He dips low on the bed so that his upper body comes into contact with Jihoon’s lower half, causing him to hiss sharply when Soonyoung’s chest brushes against his erection. 

Soonyoung grins to himself and pulls the bottle of lube out of the drawer with ease, along with two packets of condoms. One for him, another one for Jihoon. Normally he doesn’t mind making a mess—he even likes it better that way at times. Except, tonight he plans on sleeping in this very bed with Jihoon’s arms wrapped around him and it’ll be nicer to do that without first having to change the sheets.

Soonyoung wants Jihoon to fuck every last bit of doubt out of him. That probably means he won’t have the energy to get up afterwards, much less do laundry in the middle of the night.

Jihoon watches him inquisitively as Soonyoung shrugs his own pants off. He’s wholly naked now, save for his socks. The lights in the room are still on, which is somewhat unusual for them. They had been in such haste that this detail slipped Soonyoung’s mind, though he can no longer be bothered to leave the bed and correct his error. Thank God that Jihoon’s front door automatically locks upon closing because he knows for sure they would have neglected to do that, too.

He kisses Jihoon’s hipbone once before he moves back to sit on heels, snug in between Jihoon’s parted thighs.

“Soon…”

“Hmm?” Soonyoung pops open the cap of the lube bottle and coats two of his fingers in the cold, viscous liquid.

“Can’t I help?”

“No,” he shakes his head, lifting his ass off the bed and bringing his hand to his back. “Watch. If you move, I’ll stop.”

Jihoon groans, throwing his head against the headboard in his frustration.

“This is unfair.”

“If I hear you complain again, I’ll also stop.”

His mouth snaps shut so fast at that, Soonyoung almost laughs. _Almost—_ if not for the fact that he’s currently pushing one finger inside himself right now. His eyes fall close as he tries to adjust to the sensation. It's pretty bearable, Soonyoung's always taken one finger like a champ. The next one, however, is usually the one that brings trouble for him. Soonyoung unconsciously leans forward on the bed, his knees now on the mattress instead of his calves, then he slips the other finger in. With the palm that is steadying his body losing its strength for a moment, Soonyoung’s body sways and Jihoon’s on the precipice of moving in to catch him.

Then he realises: he _can’t_.

Jihoon makes a frustrated noise at his inability to take an ounce of control in the situation.

“What was that?”

“Nothing,” he croaks out helplessly. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Soonyoung hums absentmindedly, still concentrating on scissoring himself open. Preparing himself for Jihoon’s cock. Getting himself ready to be made a possession. _Jihoon’s_. “Are _you_ okay?”

“I—“ A moan breaks off in the silence of the room and Soonyoung realises a second too late that it had come from him. “Soonyoung, _fuck_.”

“Answer me,” he pants quietly, fingers curling forward to rub at his prostate, the movement just a tad above teasing. He doesn’t want to come without Jihoon inside of him, that’s for sure. “Jihoon," his call tapers into an open gasp, “ _answer me_.”

Jihoon’s voice is an octave or two higher than his normal speaking register. “I can’t do this, Soonyoung.”

“Sure you can.”

He opens his eyes and finds the sight in front of him nothing short than mesmerising. Jihoon’s bottom lip is one agitated bite away from bleeding, his knuckles bone-white where they are gripping at his own thighs, red marks made by his nails digging into his pale flesh. The flush his high on his cheek, spreading down to his neck and his upper chest.

“Shit,” Soonyoung curses, because Jihoon’s absolutely beautiful.

“You’re gorgeous—“ it’s Jihoon who says this, invading Soonyoung’s thoughts and claiming them as his own. “I can’t even see you properly. I don’t know what you’re doing back there,” he breathes out, not a protest as much as an elaboration, “but if you could see the faces you’re making right now, you’d come in an instant for sure.”

The slide of his fingers in and out of his entrance has become much easier now, the initial burn is now gone and replaced completely with rich pleasure. Whether it derives from his internal stimulation or the saccharine sweet words Jihoon spoke to him, Soonyoung is unable to differentiate anymore. He doesn’t mind either way.

“Lay down,” he says.

“What?”

This is the present he was referring to Jihoon earlier; the gift he'd put a big, red bow on and deliver to him on a silver platter if Jihoon manages to play nice. And play nice, Jihoon did.

“Lay down and I’ll ride you.”

Jihoon lets out an entire dictionary of curses as he scrambles to follow through with the order given to him. All of his words are jumbled out to Soonyoung, who takes his fingers out of himself and reaches the side for the condoms while waiting for Jihoon to get comfortable.

“Let me help you, please,” begs Jihoon, sounding more and more feeble by each passing second. “Please.”

 _You have all the power,_ he hears Jihoon's voice inside his head.

Soonyoung lifts his gaze and feels his heart constrict when he finds Jihoon sending him a crooked smile his way.

It’s half unsteady and the other half unsure, but when Soonyoung shifts his position to place one leg on either side of Jihoon’s hip, caging him in and leaning down to kiss him, Jihoon easily arches off the bed to reciprocate his effort and it’s an irreplaceable feeling. An unmistakable feeling, one of his soul settling perfectly into a haven.

“Yeah,” he agrees upon separation, slipping the condoms in between their bodies.

Jihoon’s fingers work to rip one of the packages with practised ease and then he’s reaching down to slip it onto Soonyoung’s dick, rolling it down his shaft as his eyes bore into Soonyoung’s.

“You wanna put the other one on me?” asks Jihoon, fingers brushing the random blond locks falling into Soonyoung’s eyes out of the way.

Pushing himself up with a hand flat on Jihoon’s torso, Soonyoung takes the second package and tears it at the corner. He adjusts himself, scooting down on the bed until his mouth is close to Jihoon’s manhood, his erection now a full-blown one. All of this and Soonyoung hasn’t even _touched_ him properly. It’s amazing how honest one’s body can be when stimulated the right way, and how one can elicit such a candid response from another.

He dips his tongue into the slit, tasting Jihoon. Jihoon, who can’t help but buck his hips upward, almost slaps Soonyoung across the face with his cock.

“Quit teasing,” Jihoon huffs out. “Haven’t you had enough fun?”

Soonyoung smiles against his crotch and puts the condom over the tip of Jihoon’s cock, the reservoir tip facing the inside. He forms an O shape with his lips, then positions his mouth over the condom, pushing it down past the head, careful not to let his teeth anywhere near it. Jihoon’s whole body tenses, his fingers finding purchase in Soonyoung’s hair once again though the hold is infinitely tighter this time. Ignoring the slight pain across his scalp, Soonyoung rolls the condom all the way down before he pulls away only to run his lips up and down the shaft, squeezing the bits of air out of the space between Jihoon and the thin layer of latex.

He leans back once he's done and checks the fit with his hand, finding it to be perfect.

Jihoon’s eyes are as dark as night when Soonyoung finds them again and he knows that Jihoon’s patience has run out by now. Soonyoung’s pleasantly surprised that he’s been able to hold out this long—not from climaxing, but from breaking the rules and deciding not to play into Soonyoung’s rather ridiculous requests.

“Come here,” Jihoon says through gritted teeth.

Soonyoung does.

They kiss again; their covered cocks sliding against one another down south, the friction delicious and burning.

“C’mon, Soon,” pants Jihoon softly against his lips. “C’mon.”

Soonyoung grazes his teeth over Jihoon’s unmarked collarbone, promises himself to paint it purple before the night is over, then puts his hand behind him and reaches for Jihoon. He guides Jihoon to his entrance, still wet and slick from his previous play, and presses the tip of Jihoon’s dick against his rim. Jihoon’s hands travel from his waist to the curve of his ass, squeezing there firmly and spreading him apart, a wordless yet pointed urging. Soonyoung lifts his body and props himself on his knees for a moment, only to allow Jihoon to enter him properly.

He’s not even halfway inside and Jihoon’s eyes are already shut close, their owner lost in the pleasure of Soonyoung’s walls clenching around him, taking him inch by inch. Soonyoung fights off a moan—

“Let me hear it, Soonyoung.”

So he opens his mouth and lets it out: the most obscene, guttural noise either of them has made throughout the night. It bounces off the wall, echoes inside his subconsciousness, sending all of his senses into overdrive. The effect of it on Jihoon is just as magnificent. He seems to _grow_ inside of Soonyoung, not that he completely understands how that is even possible but it’s what he feels. Who is he to rationalise any of it at this point?

Jihoon's hands are now supporting Soonyoung’s entire weight, easing him into sinking, stopping him from taking Jihoon’s length all the way to the hilt at once because it might be too much.

“A little bit more?” Jihoon asks, gentle. 

“Yeah,” Soonyoung looks down at him. “Yeah, a little bit more, please.” There's a worried crease on Jihoon's forehead, one that Soonyoung finds himself wanting to kiss away.

“Fuck, you’re so _tight_. Should’ve let me prep you.”

Huffing, Soonyoung teases him by rolling his hips in a circle. “Stop complaining, you enjoyed the show.” Jihoon lowers him another good inch and Soonyoung gradually gets used to the feeling of being one with him.

“I’m not complaining, I just don’t want this to suck for you.”

“Jihoon.”

“What?”

“I’m like, fucking rock-hard. Not one part of this sucks.”

A small yet genuine laugh. “Yeah, alright.”

“Can you see it?” asks Soonyoung, because he wants to know if his present is enjoyable to the intended receiver.

Jihoon’s answer is a muted, “Yeah, everything,” and that’s how Soonyoung figures he likes it this way, being able to see himself slides into Soonyoung unhurriedly, not chased around by the clock above their heads that dictates Soonyoung must be out of his place before the clock strikes twelve.

What a sad little Cinderella.

But the Cinderella is no more, for Soonyoung aims to stay regardless of what the clock has to say.

“Okay, you can let go now.”

Jihoon does, slowly, and Soonyoung is now completely seated on him. He leans back, hands propped on Jihoon’s upper thighs as he begins to move—lifting himself slightly before descending again. Jihoon’s hands are now rubbing at Soonyoung's thighs, thumbs kneading into his muscles in a circular motion.

A show of support, of some sorts.

“D’you want me to touch you?”

Soonyoung leans back further until only half of Jihoon is buried inside him, then he slams himself back down, hissing at the contact the blunt tip of Jihoon’s cock makes with his prostate. “Do _you_ want to touch _me_?”

“Since fifteen fucking minutes ago, what are you even asking me?”

He grinds down on Jihoon, tensing around him, narrowing the space around Jihoon’s cock and drawing a broken sound from the man beneath him. Jihoon is a lost cause this way, it’ll hardly take Soonyoung another couple of minutes to bring him to the peak of the mountain.

“Then do what you want,” offers Soonyoung, finally taking pity on him.

He brings one of his hands away from Jihoon’s thigh and winces at the additional strain the decision places upon his thighs, but it’s more than worth it when his fingers ghost over Jihoon’s balls and he gets a full-body shudder in return. Jihoon’s hand on Soonyoung’s thighs leaves a visible imprint when he gathers enough consciousness to move it to Soonyoung’s cock, grip loose at the base before he tightens it as he strokes upward, wrist flicking and twisting the way he knows Soonyoung likes.

Soonyoung loses the rhythm he’s established with Jihoon now touching him, hips barely able to move anymore safe for a few faint rolls.

“Tired?”

“No, I can do it.”

“Stubborn,” Jihoon tuts, thumb dipping into his slit. Soonyoung feels a stream of fluid coming out of him, Jihoon coaxing it to the surface skillfully with his every move. “We can switch.”

“I can do it,” says Soonyoung again, because maybe he _is_ stubborn. The muscles on his thighs are screaming their protest at him and he’ll surely be sore all day tomorrow, but he wants to give Jihoon _this_. This—and all of him. “Are you…”

“Ye-yeah," Jihoon stutters through his reply because Soonyoung finds enough strength left to start moving his hips again. "So god damn close, but I want you to come first.”

He picks up the pace of his strokes, now a level more fervent and eager than before, the fingers of his free hand sneaking up to play with Soonyoung’s right nipple.

 _I’m so in love with you_ , Soonyoung thinks idly as he stares at the ceiling, as one look at Jihoon’s face will make him come; that’s just how weak he is for him _. Please don’t ruin me_. _No more than you already have_.

“Soonyoung.”

 _Please_.

“Soonyoung, look at me.”

Wrenching his gaze away from the white paint of Jihoon’s ceiling and angling his face down to look at him, Soonyoung takes a deep breath, one final one before he fills the condom covering his cock to the brim as Jihoon bears witness to everything. Shudders of pleasure rip their way through Soonyoung’s body as his orgasm hits him in waves, immediately turning his limbs into jelly.

He falls into Jihoon, who takes him in his welcoming arms, caging him in as he gives another couple of thrusts into Soonyoung before he, too, lets go of himself. Soonyoung feels the heat growing inside him when Jihoon comes, the sensation bright-gold behind his closed lids. Jihoon mouths at his temple openly, kissing his way down to Soonyoung’s cheek and jaw.

Soonyoung turns his face to the side, resting his cheek against Jihoon’s bony shoulder.

Jihoon smiles at him, his perfect rows of white are out on display. It’s a beautiful sight.

“Shit,” he says rather intelligently. “I would say something else, but you fucked my thoughts out of me.”

“Mm,” Soonyoung agrees to the sentiment.

There’s a voice inside his head that keeps telling him the same thing over and over again as Jihoon holds his gaze: _You want to stay. Tell him that._

“Stay here tonight, yeah?”

Soonyoung’s entire world halts. Jihoon's air conditioner whirrs across the room, doing a pitiful job at cooling the two of them down. He can hear the faint sound of the neighbouring apartment's television playing some kind of dinner-time game show. Neither of the two is a loud enough intrusion to his ears to result in him mistaking what Jihoon just said. 

“What?"

“I don’t want you to go,” Jihoon says, stroking Soonyoung’s cheek with an overwhelming amount of unrestrained affection. His hand comes away wet with sweat, but Jihoon just places it on Soonyoung’s naked back. He doesn’t seem to mind it very much. “So I’m asking you to stay.”

It’s ridiculous. Jihoon is still inside him, his dick hasn’t even had the chance to deflate and already he’s asking Soonyoung something the older hadn’t gathered enough courage to ask—and so easily, too. He’s stayed a couple of nights before this but it was always an unspoken understanding between the two of them, as they’ve always danced around this matter like it’s a campfire that will burn them if they get too close.

“Yeah,” Soonyoung hears himself agreeing, though his tone manages to hide the turmoil he’s experiencing within.

Jihoon releases the breath he’s been holding in a rush, relieved. “I’ll lend you my clothes.”

“Okay.”

“After we eat, we can watch that Netflix show you like,” offers Jihoon, his expression kind.

“Sure.”

“Smile a little, jeez, you just came so hard.”

Soonyoung covers Jihoon’s mouth with his own to silence him and for a moment, all is well.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mingyu & Wonwoo—well, mostly Wonwoo, get their (his) shit together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm back at it again with my b.s. dsfjkhs if you made it here, thank you i guess...

“Mingyu,” Wonwoo gasps, clutching onto the younger’s shoulders for support. “Knees.”

 _They’re buckling beneath him_ , Mingyu realises quickly, so he slides his hands around Wonwoo’s thighs to support him from below. Wonwoo wastes no time in using the leverage Mingyu provides him with to lift himself up and wraps his legs around Mingyu’s waist, locking them in an embrace that lacks even an inch of separation.

He moves forward slowly, he can’t see much of the space in front of him with Wonwoo’s body latching so tightly to his. Plus, he has to close the door with his leg _and_ lock it with one hand while avoiding digging the doorknob into Wonwoo’s spine. That’s not an easy feat, alright?

But still, he manages. With his limited sight, he can gauge that there’s no couch in the room. It’s a small apartment in which you can see the bed—or where the bed is supposed to be if Wonwoo has set it up—right from the doorway. He looks around a little bit more, slightly distracted now because Wonwoo’s trailing kisses down his neck, and comes to the conclusion that there’s no place to set him down comfortably.

“I’m gonna have to put you down.”

Wonwoo whines at that. The sound sends the blood straight down to Mingyu’s cock and he feels himself starting to strain against his jeans.

“Come on,” he coaxes, gentle. “Help me out with the blanket, hmm?”

His persuasion seems to work as Wonwoo jumps off of him and walks toward one of the boxes placed in the corner of the room. Mingyu watches him rummage through the content rather aggressively, then there’s a blanket thrown at his face. Past the initial stunned feeling, Mingyu can't help but laugh until he finds himself attacked with yet another blanket.

Mingyu secures the suitcase opened next to his feet by pushing against the wall, then spreads one of the blankets evenly on the floor, the other one above it. He kneels on the double layer and promptly rolls around to test the material.

“Hmm.”

Wonwoo chucks a couple of cushions at him, which Mingyu catches with ease and places beneath his head. He stares at the ceiling while wriggling his body, trying to find a comfortable spot.

“So?”

“Might hurt a bit in the morning.”

“Don’t care,” Wonwoo says from somewhere to his left, then there’s pressure applied on his lips again.

Mingyu spreads his arms to accommodate Wonwoo’s body in his space. He half-expects Wonwoo to climb on top of him because that translates like an action befitting of his personality. What he gets instead is this: Wonwoo uses his upper arm as a pillow and fits himself snugly to Mingyu’s side. The younger smiles into the kiss and runs his fingers through Wonwoo’s locks.

He pulls away to marvel at Wonwoo and how docile he’s being right now. Wonwoo’s dark lashes are a contrast to his complexion; the upper ones curled prettily against the ones decorating his lower lids. Mingyu wants to ask him to open this eyes, wants to see the tender expression Wonwoo wears while looking at him again, but he just seems really peaceful like this that Mingyu doesn’t want to disrupt his peace.

From the corner of his eyes, Mingyu notices the fox plushie he’d gotten Wonwoo from the arcade perched above the seemingly brand-new cabinet to his left, the glasses slightly crooked.

He trails a finger along the bridge of Wonwoo’s nose.

“You’re beautiful.”

Said nose, and Wonwoo’s entire face, basically, turns crimson.

“Careful.” He opens his eyes and oh, how they _shine_. “A rose is beautiful too, and you might still get pricked by its thorns.”

“Who says I didn’t pluck it knowing exactly what it has in store for me?”

Upon hearing his answer, Wonwoo’s lips parts lightly.

“You’re beautiful,” Mingyu repeats again, putting all of his conviction into his words. “Absolutely beautiful.”

And maybe this time Wonwoo’s kisses aren’t as delicate as the ones he delivered before. They grow more heated, his hands exploring the outline of Mingyu’s body from above his clothing. Sometimes Wonwoo would linger at one place like he’s greeting that specific body part _hello_ , like he’s just find his way back here after taking a long detour.

_Here we are again._

Mingyu gives him the same treatment, but whereas Wonwoo remains conservative for once, the younger begins to drag Wonwoo’s sweater up and up until he’s exposed Wonwoo’s stomach, and then his chest. There’s a small feeling of disappointment in him when he finds that Wonwoo is indeed wearing a pair of shorts underneath his oversized sweater, but Mingyu’s a big boy. He can deal with it. He _is_ dealing with it as he slides his hand across Wonwoo’s torso, caressing the velvety skin that grows warm under his palm.

“What’s…” Mingyu frees his lips from Wonwoo’s. Something cold to the touch is trapped between his fingers right now. “You didn’t have this on before.”

He leads Wonwoo to rest on his back, moving the cushion beneath the older's head. All so that he can study the object of interest better. The metal gleams under the light right above their heads and it’s almost like it’s taunting Mingyu.

“Correction, I didn’t have it on that night,” Wonwoo explains, his voice now a little hoarse. “Airport security, you know? Goes fucking beep beep beep and the security agent always gets so flustered when the metal detector blinks red right in front of my chest.”

“Is this why you’re always bundled up in thick shirts or sweaters?”

A nipple piercing, for fuck’s sake, as if Wonwoo hasn’t got enough surprises up his sleeves to blow Mingyu away into the next dimension.

“This, too, but I just get cold easily.”

“I’ll warm you up, then.”

“Hmm. Please do—” Mingyu leans down to close his mouth around the bud, lets his tongue trace the sensitive area and toys with the metal bar piercing through it. Wonwoo’s back arches in the pleasure that washes over him from the act. Low moans come out of him, a symphony to Mingyu’s ears, one beautiful note after another. “Ahhh. Mingyu-yah…”

He stops.

“Wha—“

“Say it again?”

“Say what again?”

“My name.”

Wonwoo licks his lips, the movement of his tongue thorough as to cover every inch as though they lack moisture at this point. They don’t.

"Say it again, the same way as before. Please."

“Mingyu-yah.”

He slips a hand beneath the elastic waistband of Wonwoo’s shorts and is immediately met with his erection, resting against his lower abdomen. Mingyu’s hand feels warm where it’s wrapped loosely around the head, and there’s wetness there too, something that feels sticky like honey and smells just as sweet.

“I don’t have anything—condoms, none,” pants Wonwoo, eyes sliding down to Mingyu’s hand that disappears beneath the thin, black fabric.

Mingyu bites lightly at his jaw. “Me neither.” He might’ve been in too much of a hurry to see Wonwoo go over the practical aspect of things. “I didn’t think you’d let me get this far, actually.”

“Liar.”

Well, he’s right.

“Watch your mouth,” Mingyu snaps, playful for a second before he’s kissing Wonwoo again, hard. Wonwoo gasps for air when they separate and Mingyu holds back a chuckle, peppers lighter kisses across his lover’s reddened mouth instead. “Can I still get you off, though?”

“Mm, take your pants off first. You’ll ruin your jeans.”

“What are you saying? That I’ll come in my pants like a teenager?”

Wonwoo glances at Mingyu’s crotch and deliberately rubs his knees against his clothed cock. The friction causes Mingyu’s stomach to lurch. “You’re already pretty damn close, Mingyu-yah.”

He’s right, _again_.

Mingyu moves to unbuckle his belt and Wonwoo helps him, agile fingers dragging his zipper down and shoving his pants down from around his waist, long legs picking up the work to get Mingyu stripped bare when his hands can no longer reach that far.

As a token of gratitude, Mingyu pulls Wonwoo’s own shorts past his cock and licks him over the head. Wonwoo's body jolts.

“Fuck.”

“If you're lucky, maybe tomorrow,” Mingyu bites back smugly and Wonwoo glares at him like he’s about to throw hands.

Before he has the chance to do so, Mingyu takes him into his mouth, resting half of Wonwoo’s cock on his tongue. And that appears to be enough to erase Wonwoo’s protest—no matter what they might have been, they are now scattered freely in the winds.

Mingyu worships him in every flick of his tongue and every gentle tug his hand provides when he pulls away for air. The way his hips buck up into Mingyu’s mouth and also his fist indicates to him that the older is growing more and more desperate. Despite that, Wonwoo’s lips remained sealed shut through it all.

Since not a single word seems to escape him, Mingyu takes matters into his own hands and asks, “Do you want me to go faster?”

“Wh,” Wonwoo garbles unintelligently, “Ever.”

Mingyu taps his protruding hipbone to get Wonwoo’s attention back to him. “Hmm?”

“Whatever you want.”

“But what do _you_ want?”

“I don’t recall you talking this much the first time around.”

It’s a protest, but there’s no heat to it. Mingyu just grins and kisses Wonwoo at the joint between his hip and thigh.

He can only vaguely recalls what happened between them that first night, now, but he knows it all happened hard and fast, both of their minds addled by alcohol that made everything fussier and twice as sensitive. They came together once, Mingyu inside of Wonwoo and Wonwoo all over Mingyu’s stomach, waited for the high to pass before Wonwoo proceeded to take him into his mouth. Mingyu came first then, inside of Wonwoo _again_ —was too busy panting to remember whether the older had swallowed or spitted it out, but he knew Wonwoo was jerking himself off at the same time.

The thought, relived, is just as wonderful as the event itself. The realisation that there’d be more of that to come? It's priceless.

“Well, _I_ recall you were _showing_ me what you wanted, so I didn’t have to ask.”

So, he deserves it then, when Wonwoo takes a fistful of the hair on the back of his head and shoves Mingyu’s face in the direction of his cock.

“Clear enough for you?”

“Sir, yes, sir.”

Following through with Wonwoo's instruction, Mingyu goes back to the task at hand and gives it his all, because Wonwoo deserves nothing less than _everything_.

Wonwoo calls his name over and over again when as he nears, every syllable a plea, then there’s the choked-off noise when his orgasm hits him and he’s throbbing inside Mingyu’s mouth—spilling, _marking_. Mingyu continues to suck around the head even after Wonwoo’s given him what appears to be his last drop and Wonwoo practically _claws_ at him, urging him off before he gets him overstimulated. So Mingyu pulls away with a pop and trails softer ministrations down the side of his shaft until Wonwoo descends back to Earth.

“Mingyu-yah.”

“Yes,” answers Mingyu, then he’s moving up to capture’s Wonwoo’s lips in between his.

Their skin sticks to each other from the sweat, but Mingyu’s on cloud nine and he doesn’t mind it at all. Kisses after kisses are exchanged, languid movements of their mouths against one another, the sounds they make as they meet in the middle filling the wall of Wonwoo’s new apartment. Then, just as he thinks he can fall asleep like this, with Wonwoo’s hand resting on his hip and their chests touching, Wonwoo moves said hand down south and puts it to good use.

Mingyu swears like a damn sailor when he paints white all over Wonwoo’s fingers, but through his arousal, he feels bubbling happiness that comes from the ability to throw Wonwoo’s name in the mix with the rest of his obscenities.

* * *

“I love your scent.”

Wonwoo tries to pull away from him, a frown on his lips. “Oh, that’s definitely a _weird_ thing to say.”

“Why?” Mingyu buries his nose further, pressing his mouth onto the skin behind Wonwoo’s ear. “You smell like spring. When all the pretty flowers in bloom at the same time.”

“That reminds me, aren’t you mildly allergic to pollen? Your nose was so red when you brought me that plum blossom.”

There’s a moment of silence. Okay, so Mingyu _might_ have taken the entire tree if he thought his nose could take it, but the stem sufficed, didn’t it? Also, he doesn’t want to find out how much Wonwoo would talk his ear off for plucking an entire tree with its roots out of the ground.

“Wow, you really know how to kill the mood.”

Wonwoo giggles at the comment, the sound light and wonderful. He practically shoves his neck in the direction of Mingyu’s face afterwards, urging the younger to carry on with his acts of tender loving care.

“But.” Mingyu gives an open-mouthed kiss to the first flower of Wonwoo’s tattoo, located right next to his jaw. “You know.” He gifts Wonwoo yet another one of those kisses halfway down the path where the main branch leads. “That just means…” Wonwoo shudders openly, his body tensing a significant fraction beneath Mingyu’s sensual touches.

“You’re the closest thing to heaven,” he finds himself at the edge of the older man’s shoulder, where the dark ink ends and there’s nothing but naked skin left to explore. “I’m ever going to get.”

Mingyu stops raining kisses on Wonwoo’s body and rests his chin on his upper arm. Wonwoo’s eyes open slowly, almost lazily, and once they fully do there’s nothing but bliss reflected in them. A hand comes to caress Mingyu’s cheek, then Wonwoo’s leaning in to kiss him properly. On the lips, with his tongue slipping inside Mingyu’s mouth, allowing the younger to taste both his satisfaction and relief.

When they separate, Wonwoo brushes his nose against Mingyu’s own before he starts nuzzling into his cheek with it, and Mingyu’s heart overfills with a feeling he can’t name yet, but knows for a fact that it’ll come to him often whenever Wonwoo’s in his proximity.

He remembers something, then, through the haze of it all: how they managed to get here in the first place.

“You did well.”

Wonwoo leans away to show Mingyu his baffled expression.

“You did good, telling Seokmin the truth,” he strains his neck to kiss the peak of Wonwoo’s forehead, lets his mouth linger there for a moment before he pulls away. “Good job, hyung.”

For a couple of heartbeats, Wonwoo is silent.

Then, a hitch of his breath is followed by, “I don’t know when those words coming from you started to become important to me.”

“But you know…” Mingyu attempts gently, as he doesn’t want to upset Wonwoo so soon after he’s made him happy. “With Soonyoung-hyung. You know that you did wrong, right?”

“Yeah…” Wonwoo curls his body inward, voice small, and Mingyu reels him close.

“Then that’s fine for now. I will help you fix it, through moral support or whatever other ways you’d let me.”

Wonwoo leans up at him, his eyes a little glassy. “Thank you.”

“You’re very welcome,” Mingyu kisses the tip of his nose.

_What a study in contradictions you are. One moment you’re pliant, the next you’re hard as steel, then the softness bleeds back and you’re once again one of my favourite versions of you there is._

“'I am incapable of conceiving infinity, and yet I do not accept finity.’”

Upon recognising the quote and the person who’s said it, Mingyu stiffens against him. “It’s—“

“Simone de Beauvoir, yes,“ Wonwoo admits, confirming his suspicion. “I read up on her. I guess it’s one way I could still be close to you without being close to you.”

He melts quickly, does without any resistance. Words like that, how could he not?

“You’re close to me now.”

“I am, and I like it here.”

Wonwoo buries himself further into Mingyu to drive his point home and the younger gladly welcomes him into his space.

“Tell me,” Wonwoo urges then. “Your favourite quote of hers. I know you have one.”

Mingyu smiles at that, then leans in close and whispers the words that were written _for_ her instead of _by_ her straight into Wonwoo’s ear.

_Tonight, I love you on a spring evening. I love you with the window open. You are mine, and things are mine, and my love alters the things around me and the things around me alter my love._

**Author's Note:**

> fyuh. who's tired?


End file.
